


half past-five

by coulbyangel



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Date, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7405471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coulbyangel/pseuds/coulbyangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen and Merlin accidentally set them up on a blind date without knowing they're related.</p>
            </blockquote>





	half past-five

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on a fic request I saw on livejournal absolutely forever ago when I was looking for armor fics! in this universe, morgana is arthur's adopted sister after her parents died in a car crash, and both of them have no sense of personal boundaries or morality. honestly, what else is new?

It’s summer when Morgana moves into her new room at Oxford, and Uther forces Arthur to take on the task of carrying in all of her moving boxes.  Normally she’d relish any opportunity to treat Arthur as her servant, but even she can acknowledge that it is way too hot outside to be transporting heavy items.  She doesn’t say anything when Arthur ends up taking off his shirt, or when several girls flutter around him the second he does.  Instead, she walks up the stairs alone, and wonders what was so important that Uther couldn’t even bother to be there to move her in.

She’s just starting on unpacking the pile of cardboard boxes when she feels the touch of skin on her back and a hand on her wrist.

“Need help?”  Arthur’s breath is directly on her neck, and despite herself Morgana doesn’t move away from him.  The heat is stifling, and even though all she wants is a cold shower, it takes everything in her not to lean into him.

“I’m perfectly capable of doing this myself.”  She regrets it the second she says it, but Morgana is far too proud to say yes to anything he offers.  No matter how desperately she wants it.

“Fine by me,” he replies cageily, and when he leaves, he kicks over her box of silverware.

 

***

 

If there is anything that Gwen prides herself on, it’s getting to class on time.  She always manages to show up five minutes early to her Art Under the Roman Empire class, which gives her just enough time to score a seat in the middle of the lecture hall and finish a cup of coffee.  Right as she passes the three minute mark (leaving her _just_ enough time to finish her coffee), she finds herself interrupted by a mysterious voice.

“Hello,” the voice says strongly, in a way that seemed to demand her immediate respect and attention.  “Would you mind if I sit here?”  

Gwen barely looks up, because as nice as she is, she really wants to finish her latte.  “Mhmm, go ahead,” she mumbles, risking a (possibly) fatal burn as she downs the rest of her beverage.  With half a minute to spare, she turns to introduce herself to the interloper, but instead finds herself in awe of the black-haired beauty beside her.  Her hair is done up in 40’s pinup curls, and the vampire-red lipstick she has on only serves to highlight the green of her eyes.   _Damn._

The girl cracks an amused smirk at Gwen’s reaction.  “I’m Morgana.  What’s your name?”

 

***

 

The next week, Morgana starts coming five minutes earlier too, and Gwen learns to drink her coffee on the way to class instead so she can talk to this mysterious stranger.  It takes some getting used to, but Gwen gets over her initial nervousness, and it turns out they have a lot in common.  They’re both studying ancient and modern history, and carry the same obsession with punctuality.  She also finds out that Morgana is from the States, although her voice doesn’t carry the same Southern twang that Gwen’s does.

“I was much younger when I moved,” she says by way of explanation, although Gwen finds herself jealous of the girl's posh Londoner accent anyways.  Gwen raises an eyebrow, as if to ask why she moved in the first place, but Morgana seems to sense the question.  “There was a car accident,” she explains, and the tone of her voice seems to end any conversation on the topic.

“So,” Gwen replies, a tad bit awkwardly.  “Have you met anyone else on campus?”

Morgana visibly brightens.  “I’ve made a couple of other friends, but I am awfully and terrifyingly single.”  She waggles her eyebrows.  “So, if you know anyone good, I am _definitely_ available.”

 

***

 

The next time Arthur and Morgana see each other, it’s because they’ve both been invited to the same party.  Morgana has a beer in one hand and is dancing next to Vivian, the bitchy blonde that invited them both in the first place.  

“Arthur!” She exclaims, and it’s clear she’s already drunk because her smile is far too wide to be the result of his presence.  “Come here!”

It might be just the alcohol talking, but Arthur would be a fool to resist her when she’s like this, all warm and happy and sweet.  Morgana might be bitter and frigid at first, but she knows how to charm other people into doing what she wants, especially when she’s drunk.  He walks straight to her, and she wraps an arm around his neck and pulls him close.

“Hey,” she murmurs softly into his ear.  “I need youu...”  She stops to remember how the sentence is supposed to end, and places her other hand on his hip to steady herself.  Her hand is dangerously close to his dick, which makes it even worse when she starts absentmindedly drawing circles on his hip.

His mouth is dry, and he’s honestly halfway to a boner, because apparently Morgana crooning in his ear is all he needs to get him hard.

“I need youu to introduce mee to that boy over thereee,” she continues, pointing to Valiant, whose father happens to be in the House of Lords.  

 _Of course._ Arthur coldly disentangles her from him.

“Oh come on, Arthur darling.” Morgana snickers.  “You didn’t think I meant you, did you?”

“Of course not.”

 

***

 

It takes Arthur less time to adjust, because everyone he was friends with in high school was going to Oxford anyways, so the issue for him is really more about keeping his grades up.  That’s why, instead of being at a house party like he had originally planned, he finds himself studying for a calculus test in one of Oxford’s many dusty libraries on a Friday night.  It’s the perfect setup: he has the textbook in front of him, a pencil behind his ear, and his phone is playing music in the background to help him focus.  Admittedly, it's a pretty obnoxious move to play his music sans headphones, but he’s pretty sure that there is no one on this floor except him.

A couple minutes later, he realizes he’s wrong.  “No offense,” says a scowling black-haired boy with a distinct Irish accent.  “But would you mind turning your music off?  This is a _library_.”  

It’s probably the tone with which he says it, or the fact that Arthur is already pissed at having to miss the party, but Arthur is on the verge of replying with his own acerbic remark.  Instead, his eyes land on the matching calculus textbook in the other boy’s hand, and he senses an opportunity.  Arthur drags a chair from beside him, and gestures meaningfully to the empty seat.

“Sit,” he commands.  The boy does, although he does flash Arthur a dirty look out of those blue eyes of his.  Arthur waves his hand to his own book, and cracks a smile despite himself at the boy’s distinct discomfort.  “Study.”

His companion refuses to speak to him in a tone louder than a grave mumble for the rest of the time, but when they finally close their textbooks in defeat, he turns to him and offers up a blinding smile.

 “The name’s Merlin.”

 

***

 

They end up studying for every subsequent test or quiz after that together, and sometimes Arthur just comes to Merlin’s room to chill on his bed when he tires of the politics of being friends with fellow millionaires.  Merlin isn’t afraid to call him out, unlike some of his friends, who are far too intimidated by the fact that he is heir to his father’s banking empire.

“Have you ever noticed how pointy your ears are?” Arthur calls from the top of Merlin’s lofted bed, and watches as Merlin furiously scribbles away at his English essay.

“Not right now, you prat!”

He’s having too much fun teasing him though, so Arthur recklessly disregards the warning.  “I’m serious, they’re like an elf’s! It’s a wonder you even have a girl, mate….Freya must be _seriously_ kinky…”

Merlin glances upward for a brief second, and flashes him a smirk.  “She is, thank you very much.  And at least I _have_ a girl.” 

Arthur rolls his eyes at the barbed remark, and flips him the finger for good measure.  “Find me one then.”

 

***

 

Morgana is starting to realize that most boys at Oxford are either too pretentious and self-involved for her, or are too intimidated by the fact that her adoptive brother is the heir to Camelot Investments.  Either way, she has very limited options for dating, which is starting to become a bit of a problem for her.

“Hard day at work, darling?”  Morgana catches Arthur’s voice from behind her, and she whips around to face him.

She’s pretty sure he just finished taking his calculus test, and judging from the cocky smile on his face, it probably went well.  Morgana crosses her arms over her chest, refusing to react.  “How was the test?”

“Alright,” he demurs, and shrugs his shoulders with an air of pseudo-humility.   

She turns to him and raises a single eyebrow.

“It went fuckin’ amazing.”  Arthur has that shit-eating grin on his face that made all the girls in high school fall in love with him, but all it ever did was make Morgana roll her eyes.  She shakes her head derisively at him. 

“Do you always have to be so impressed with yourself?” She’s clearly aiming to offend, but all it does is make Arthur laugh, which just annoys Morgana more.

 “It’s hard not to be, especially when you’re as impressive as I am.” He leans against her, and twirls a lock of her hair with his finger.  Morgana hates it when people touch her hair, and he knows it.  She pushes his arm off of her.

“The only thing impressive about you is how much of a dick you are.”

“Looks like being a dick runs in the family then.”

 

***

 

“What are you thinking about?”

Gwen makes eye contact with Merlin, who has a bemused expression on his face.  She’s pretty sure he’s been talking for the last ten minutes, but she was too busy compiling a mental list of Oxford’s finest young bachelors to notice.  “Sorry.  See, I have this friend, Morgana, and the truth is that she’s just looking for a good lay or at least a hot boy to date, but I can’t seem to think of anyone that good-looking enough for her or--”

Merlin waves his hands excitedly in the air.  “That’s just what I was talking to _you_ about!  See, I have this friend, Arthur, and he really needs a girl, because he’s a great friend and all but I swear he spends 99% of his time lurking in my room and I just cannot take it anymore--”

Gwen cuts him off before his ramble turns into a rant.  “So...you have a friend that needs a date...and I have a friend that needs a date…”

Merlin beams.  “If we aren’t the world’s best matchmakers, I don’t know who is.”

 

***

 

Arthur is just putting his arm through his best button-up shirt, when his door comes swinging wide open.

“Your date! Your date!” Merlin yells as he waves his arms around.  “You have to get ready!”

Arthur chuckles.  “Merlin.  I’m already ready.  Did you really think I would forget?”  Merlin shrugs.  “You haven’t even told me her name yet, so the only thing I’m going off of here is your assurance that she’s a beauty.” 

The pale boy gives him a frantic nod of approval.  “Gwen only introduced me to her once, but I’m telling you, that girl is the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen in my life. In fact,” he says, pensively.  “I’m not entirely sure you’re even in her league.”

Arthur applies a dash of cologne before he gets out the door.  “Please, Merlin.  It doesn’t get much prettier than me.”

 

***

 

Morgana really needs to get laid.  She’s done serious boyfriends before, and all it’s ever really ended in is loud fights and lots of yelling.  Right now, all she needs is someone that will kiss her and have sex with her without giving her ultimatums or trying to control her every move.  According to Gwen, this guy is ready to deliver exactly that.

“How do I look?”  She has her tallest stilettos and a tiniest bodycon dress on, and while it may not win any fashion awards, she’ll be damned if she goes home alone tonight.

Gwen wolf-whistles.  “He won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”

 “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

 

***

 

Arthur asks his mystery girl to meet him at a local bar, because he’s never been on a blind date before, and he’s sure as hell not going to do it sober.  Arthur overestimates the traffic and gets there ahead of time, so he decides to take two shots, just to take the edge off.  Ten minutes later, he’s considering flagging down the bartender for another one, when he sees a girl walk in out of the corner of his eye.

She’s wearing ridiculously high heels that show off absurdly long legs, and her dress has a neckline that plunges down to there, and….and it’s Morgana.  What on earth is _Morgana_ doing here?  It’s oddly discomfiting to see her looking like this, and for a split second he wishes she was his blind date instead.

“What’s a girl like you doing a bar like this?” He catcalls from the bar, probably just because he knows it’s obnoxious enough to make Morgana angry.  Predictably, she looks both surprised and severely annoyed at him.

“What are you doing here, Arthur?”

“I’ve got a hot date, who is very, very late by now.”  He flags down the bartender for another drink, and Morgana signals to the man that she wants one too.  “What about you?”

She flushes, and he finds his gaze wandering hungrily over her chest.  “I have one too.  I’m a little late though, and I don’t even know who he is.”  That snaps his attention back to her face.

“You’re on a date?  In a dress like this?  Jesus, Morgana, I don’t think you two were ever going to get past introductions.”  

He can tell she’s starting to regret her outfit now, because she crosses her legs primly and downs half her drink in one gulp.  “And so what?  What is it your business who I sleep with?”

It’s a challenge, and one that he is more than willing to accept now that he’s two drinks in.  His hand comes to rest on her knee, and she immediately puts hers on top of his, as if to stop him.  Instead, they’re pretty much just holding hands, and it makes it just that much easier for him to lean in closer.  “I like you like this.  Hair down.  Fuck-me heels.  Dress that goes down to…” He takes his other hand and runs it along the slit in the fabric before Morgana slaps it away.

She’s on her feet and running out the door before he can even say anything more.  It’s a shame, really.  It’s become a hobby of his now, to get her as riled up as he can-- he likes to watch her turn red.  He takes one more shot and then flags down a taxi.

 

***

Her hands are shaking when she knocks on the door once, then remembers he never locks the door anyways, and decides to just barge in.

“Mmgana,” he mutters sleepily, his naked chest visible from under the covers.  She’s pretty sure he’s still drunk, just like she is, which is really the only excuse for what she’s about to do.  “What’re you doing here?”

Morgana doesn’t answer.  She pulls the hidden size zipper on her garment down and lets the dress fall to the floor.  “Please don’t talk.  It’ll make this easier.”

If he was sleepy before, he sure as hell isn’t now.  He nods, wide-eyed, and beckons her to come to the bed.  Morgana walks to him in slow, fluid motions, like she’s moving in a dream.  Her hands come to grip his jaw, and she kisses his mouth softly, once, then twice.  His tongue tastes like vodka, but so does hers, and she's distinctly aware of how good it feels to finally be so close to him.  Even so, there’s an unsurety to her movements, because she may be the one that’s initiating this, but she has no idea what she’s doing.  

Fortunately, Arthur seems to, and his hand comes up to grip her arse, pulling her onto his lap so that she can feel him underneath her.  She’s only just now realizing how hard Arthur is, and how wet she suddenly is, like they’ve both just been waiting for this moment to arrive.  He's eager for her, and she can feel his fingers thrusting inside her already, with his mouth hot on her neck.  She's eager too though, and it only takes a couple of minutes before she comes, and then she’s crawling off of him.

“That was,” she says, breathless, her voice straggling out in thin breaths.  She locks eyes with his unfocused ones, and knows that he knows what she’s trying to tell him.  Her body hurts with how good it felt to finally be with him, but even in her drunken state she knows this can’t become a pattern.

“Please don’t talk.” He repeats slowly.  “It’ll make this easier.”

Morgana nods, and climbs back on top of him.

 

***

 

“Honestly, Morgana, we had no idea.  You two were supposed to be each other’s blind dates.” Gwen apologizes.  “I didn’t know you and Arthur were _related._ ”

Merlin nods emphatically, then snickers.  “You’ve got to admit though...it’s kinda hilarious.”  He points to the both of them.  “I’m still laughing at the thought of the world’s most wealthiest siblings accidentally going on a date together.”

“It’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve heard.  Wouldn’t you agree, darling?” Arthur says, giving Morgana a smug smile.  His hand grips the inside of her thigh tightly under the table, and Morgana obligingly lets her legs fall open.

“Can’t think of anything more preposterous.”


End file.
